


We Should Get Jerseys

by NuclearNik



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco in his Quidditch kit makes Hermione horny, Established Relationship, F/M, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik
Summary: After the first Quidditch game of the season, Draco discovers a surprise waiting for him in the Head dorm.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 22
Kudos: 445





	We Should Get Jerseys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyKenz347](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/gifts).



> Here's a little smut-shot inspired by a [gorgeous piece of art](https://ladykenz347.tumblr.com/post/622585616942645248) by LadyKenz347! Unbeta'd and just for funsies.

"Oh good. You're back."

Shoving open the door to the head dorm as he tugged at the leather gauntlet on his left arm with his teeth, Draco came to a dead stop at the sight before him.

Standing there in front of the fireplace was 158 centimetres of soft, warm witch all wrapped up in naught but his spare Quidditch jersey, wild hair cascading down her back.

"Well, hello." A hungry smile spread over his face as he propped his broom in the corner and dropped his duffle on the floor. Crossing the space between them quickly, he snaked an arm around her back and tugged her to him, ignoring the fact that he was dripping wet, a bit muddy, and still laced up in some of his gear.

Resting his forehead against hers, he said, "I thought you were studying."

"I was. I finished my work, and now I want to play."

_Sweet fucking Circe._

"Merlin, Granger. You're going to kill me."

Her shark-like smile sent a bolt of heat straight to his cock, but to its dismay and his own, he realised he needed to clean up before pursuing what she’d laid right on the table.

"Let me rinse off first."

He turned to head up the short set of stairs leading to their rooms and shared bathroom, but he was stopped by delicate fingers wrapping around his wrist.

"No, don’t. Leave it."

Raising one eyebrow at her, he didn't speak as she pressed up close to him, going up on her toes to undo his shoulder pads and pull them off. 

"I like it," she whispered against his skin. "You look…" She paused, catching a water droplet with the tip of her tongue as it slid down his jaw, "rugged."

_Fuck me._

"Draco," she said, leaning in to speak against his ear as she walked her fingers up his chest to slide around his neck and play with the hair at his nape, "I'm not wearing anything under this."

Her breath was hot and a sharp contrast to the blustery, icy rain pouring down outside the windows, and the potent mix of that and her words set him into motion. Snagging her around the waist, he spun her around towards the sofa, and her resulting giggle brought a smile to his face as he laid her on her back, saying, "Stay there a minute."

Taking a few steps backwards, he held her gaze as he began to strip off his Quidditch kit, undoing the remaining gauntlets and shin guards, then peeling his jersey off and dropping it to the floor with what he hoped was a seductive expression. He’d never done the striptease thing before but from the look of his witch, she was enjoying it mightily.

So was he. Her eyes were darkened by desire as she took him in, spurring him on. Her gaze was no longer on his face, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk as his fingers fell to the laces of his uniform trousers, undoing them just enough to keep them hanging off his hips.

When he'd tossed her onto the sofa, the oversized shirt covering her rode up to the tops of her thighs, giving him barely a glimpse of more as she shifted, and a growl escaped him without permission.

The little minx knew exactly what she was doing when she trailed her hands over her body, sliding down her abdomen to ever-so-slightly play with the hem of the shirt, revealing a bit more as he tossed his wand aside and came down over her on the sofa, pressing his mouth to her grinning lips.

She tasted like peppermint sugar quills, and the mental image of her sucking at the tip of one while she studied dutifully made him even harder. As his teeth sunk into her pouty bottom lip, she whimpered into his mouth, her hands sliding up his back to clutch at his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin deliciously.

For a few minutes, he just touched her, running his hands and mouth over every inch of skin he could reach, starting at her feet and nipping at her ankle, then pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her knee.

He noted that her breathing had sped up significantly by the time he pushed the jersey up around her shoulders and finally reached that tender spot below her jaw that never failed to elicit a moan, and suddenly she was pushing at him, sitting up and rolling until their positions were reversed and he found himself beneath her, her thighs bracketing his hips.

“You aren’t moving fast enough,” she spoke around a smug smile, though the confident note of it was lessened a bit by the needy breathlessness in her voice. “And now…” Propping up on one arm, she let her other hand slip down his chest until it reached his trousers, her small hand grasping his cock and working him over. “I’m going to have my way with you.” On the last syllable, she lifted up a bit on her knees and guided him until she was sinking down on top of him, and they both hissed out, “Fuck,” between their teeth.

“You can have me any way you’d like, princess.”

The shirt had fallen back down, and she pulled it up and off, steadying herself with a hand planted on his chest. She started to _move,_ and it felt so fucking good he thought maybe that hit he’d taken in today’s game had been harder than he thought because surely he was hallucinating. 

It wasn’t Hermione Granger moving sensuously above him, hips rolling smoothly and perfect tits bouncing with every thrust. That would be absurd.

Except it was, and somehow _he_ was the person that got to see her like this, _he_ was the one she allowed to see the parts of her that she hid away from the rest of the world, and he could only thank whatever deity might be listening for his stroke of dumb luck.

Lurking in the back of his mind was an insidious little thought that she’d come to her senses and toss him aside, but he pushed it away and settled his hand on her hips.

He would take what she gave him, for however long she decided to choose him.

And he would enjoy the hell out of it.

Her hair fell around them in a curtain and the world narrowed to just the two of them, their moans and gasps of pleasure the only sounds in the room. When she leant down and kissed him, her tongue sliding against his, he whispered her name like a prayer against her lips.

“You’re fucking perfect.” With his grip on her hips, he started to control her movements, using the leverage to thrust up and pull her down onto him even tighter with each downward stroke, her hips moving in little circles as they ground into each other.

The arm holding her up slipped just as he felt her tighten around him, and he stopped trying to hold back, the two of them diving off the cliff into mutual pleasure.

She collapsed atop him, and he ran one hand up and down her back as they both tried to catch their breath.

With her face buried in his neck, she mumbled something he couldn’t understand.

“What?”

Pulling back just enough to look him in the eye and run a finger tenderly down his jaw, she smiled and said, “Congratulations on winning your first game of the year.”

“If this my reward every time we win, consider me permanently motivated to never lose.”

She tossed her head back and laughed before settling back down on top of him, wiggling a little until she was comfortable. Wordlessly, he summoned the blanket from the armchair and covered them, tucking it down around their sides, a smile he couldn’t control tipping up his lips when she nuzzled into him like a contented kitten.

Soon she was asleep and he followed quickly behind, knowing that the nightmares that plagued his rest wouldn’t find him now, not when he had her in his arms.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Light-Fingered Roommate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25179967) by [IrisCalasse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisCalasse/pseuds/IrisCalasse)




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